


The Rose and the Rapier

by DevonMarlowe



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Jeritza needs love too, Post-Time Skip, feel-good smut, people working out feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 10:24:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21336709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevonMarlowe/pseuds/DevonMarlowe
Summary: Byleth is trying to put the pieces of her life back together after her father's death and her untimely slumber when she comes to terms with the scary realization that the person now sworn to duel her to the death is the only person she's ever felt close to. He was her dueling partner, her secret liaison many nights when she needed the clash of swords to release her tension. How many times had they overpowered each other, parried brutal strikes, forced each other to yield? Jeritza was her only equal. And he was the Death Knight.It was a dark and stormy night, and decisions had to be made.
Relationships: Jeritza von Hrym & My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 2
Kudos: 110





	The Rose and the Rapier

Byleth found herself walking the Garrag Mach grounds again at night - it seemed like she was always unable to sleep these days and this storm wasn’t going to stop her from wandering. The monastery reminded her of herself, falling apart in places but still standing. Not for the first time, she thought back to five years ago, before the war drove everyone apart and they were all together to learn, and laugh, and even love. Her students were back, and it helped her heart greatly, but she still felt the pang of loss at friends now gone. It was lonely here.

It was Jeritza’s door that she found herself in front of, one of the few doors that had not been broken by looters. She laid her palm on the wood, his room had an undeniable pull on her and she always fought it. Their sparring matches were legendary before the war, and so very few people ever saw them - both parties had come to a silent agreement that at least two or three times a week, they would meet in the dead of night and just… battle each other. It could last hours before someone finally won, and it was always an even match.

Byleth had become very good at reading him, as well as anyone could be, she supposed. The sparring meant as much to him as it did to her. They found their only worthy combatant in each other, and it was very rare for either to miss their designated nights.

Tonight would have been one of them, had he not fought for the enemy. Had he not sought her death.

The door squeaked open at her push and she discovered that the interior was exactly as he had left it, gaping hole in the wall that they’d found while looking for Flayn and everything. There was no clutter, only the standard bed and work desk, candles and a few books. Nothing personal remained or probably had ever been there. 

Standing in the middle of the room, she closed her eyes and breathed in. Dust tickled her nose. She was terrible with emotions, which she rightly justified by saying she’d only just had them for a few months, but she had always felt… something… for him. Even with his refusal to speak much and his complete lack of any social need - she understood that. He was her equal.

Byleth knew what she felt now. She… missed him. Death Knight be damned, she missed Jeritza’s presence in her life. His piercing eyes. His melodic voice that he used so sparingly, that she imagined lulling her to sleep. He had been a constant, an anchor in all the madness going on in her life.

She turned to leave and dodge the storm back to her room when she discovered a man leaning his back against the door, arms crossed, barring her exit. It was dark at this time of night but she could see that he had no weapon or armor. Her hand flew to her sword and she realized that she didn’t have a weapon either.

“Sparring night and you without a sword,” his voice rang out in the stillness. Jeritza.

Byleth’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you get in here?”

“Mmm… secrets.”

She took a step backwards. “How did you know I was here?”

He countered with a question. “Why are you here?”

She thought of a million reasons she could say, excuses for entering his room, anything to sound like she wasn’t trespassing in someone else’s personal space. In the end though, all that came out was, “I… don’t know.”

Jeritza tilted his head to the side. “I see.”

The situation felt preposterous. Two enemies in a room together, two people who had fought to kill each other, casually in each other’s presence now. 

“... do we have to fight now?” she whispered.

“We will fight and we will die, but not this night.”

He stood up straight. In the moonlight and the lightning of the storm, she could see that he was in his old uniform, his light brown hair tied to flow down his back. There was a tension to the room that they both felt, and neither knew what to do with.

After a few moments, he spoke. “I will leave now.”

Byleth shot forward. “Wait.” As he looked at her, surprised, she realized she had no idea how to continue. How could she give in to the feelings she kept hiding from herself about this monster? This was the Death Knight, kidnapper, murderer, unstoppable killing machine of the enemy. But she missed him so much. She wanted the sparring matches, she wanted… to be close to him. What did that mean though. Oh no, she had feelings for him. How dumb was she not to notice? Every time they picked each other up off the training ground floor, every time their bodies clashed in their fights… it was the closeness she wanted. Her only equal… her disconcerting friend.

“Wait…” she repeated. “I… Stay. Please stay.”

He took a step towards her, confused, and she crossed the rest of the distance in a heartbeat. As she stood in front of him, he looked down at her from his greater height. “Why?” he uttered quietly.

And then it all spilled out. “Give me one night… surrender with me for one night,” she whispered, standing as close as she could. “We will forget ourselves, forget the past, the present… just… be alive with me tonight.” Standing on her toes, she shyly pressed her lips to his. Everything in her both screamed at her for being stupid and screamed at her to not let this chance get away, as there would be no others.

In the stillness of his room, with the storm raging outside, time stood still for them. Byleth with her eyes shut tight so that she couldn’t see the rejection. Jeritza frozen in place. 

She knew what she wanted, but what did he want? Had she read the small signs incorrectly? The lingering gazes, the longer than necessary contact as they picked up their battered sparring partner? Then… she felt him. The warmth of his lips as he pressed back. It was so soft, light, feathery kisses containing his fear of what she asked of him. Heartbreaking gentleness. She placed her hands on his sides, fingers clasping to his tunic. It was a fragile moment between them, so easily broken by moving too fast.

Byleth felt Jeritza’s hand around her waist, pulling her closer. Another hand found its way to her neck, then his fingers were in her hair, holding them both together, soft kisses and barely there touches. He smells like vanilla and sandalwood, and she can’t get enough.

Lightning flashed and he pulled away, only to place his forehead against hers, eyes shut, a soft exhale escaping his lips. She leaned into him and ran her hands up his back, feeling his muscles tense and then soften. He pressed his lips against hers again, almost chaste, as his hands lowered to undo her overcoat.

As she helped him shed it to the floor, she ran her tongue shyly across his lower lip, easing his lips apart. He’s warm and he tastes both sweet and salty as he deepens their kiss, tongues meeting, soft noises.

Byleth started removing her armor as Jeritza took a step back. He said nothing, but continued to look at her as she lowered it all to the floor. It was almost as if… he didn’t know what to do next. Like this had never happened before. She wouldn’t doubt it - through his own choices or not, he did not seem like a man who would ever focus on such things. His was a life of steel and blood… and death. Was it really so unlike her own, she realized with a start. Each might have found the only other person that could truly understand them.

She had no experience either but she knew she they could find their way to each other.

Armor off, she moved back to him, placing her hands on the sides of his face. Her thumb moved across his cheek and to the ridge of his mask. If she asked him to remove it, it would kill whatever spell was over this moment, and she would never risk it. Byleth knew what it was like to feel safe behind a mask… she’d been doing it almost her entire life. This was a part of him, and she could no more ask it gone than she could ask that he tear his heart from his chest and give it to her.

Which is why it came as a great surprise when Jeritza unmasked.

His face was smooth and soft under the mask, his eyes bright but wary. Innocent… he looked innocent. This must be what Mercedes remembers of her brother, those intelligent eyes that could see right into a person and judge their very soul. Nothing could be hidden from those eyes.

Byleth knew what this meant to him, the trust he had in her to do such a thing. She felt tears prick her eyes.

Perhaps to prevent the tears from falling, he brought his lips to hers and kissed her, his fingers finding their way back to the nape of her neck and into her hair. He was insistent, meeting her tongue, exploring each other’s mouths. Her hands came up to cradle his face while his arm snaked around her waist and she barely recognized that she was being pushed back against the wall. His lips were so warm, his fingers tight in her hair. Becoming more pressing, it was as if he was pouring all of his need into his kiss.

As he pressed her into the wall, he wanted more access, more skin contact. Jeritza’s lips touched hers softly as he fumbled to remove her bodice and discard it on the floor, then branded down her neck, nipping at the vulnerable skin above her pulse as his hand left her hair to slide down her collarbone and to her breasts. A soft growl left him as he cupped one, sliding his thumb over her nipple, and he instinctively pressed his hips into her, evidence of his desire rubbing against her. He was so hard for her in such little time.

Jeritza lips and tongue traced down her body, pausing to suck gently at her other nipple, and he knelt before her and began removing her boots. Byleth had her shorts and tights sliding down immediately after and she stood in front of him, in the moonlight, completely naked. Every thought in her head was howling in embarrassment, telling her to put her clothes back on NOW, telling her how stupid it was to be naked in front of the enemy. She blushed and shivered, looking off to her side.

Jeritza, sensing how much will this had taken her, was overwhelmed. His breath came short, ragged. He kissed her thighs, the crease of her legs and her body, his hot breath like fire against her, his tongue tracing paths across her. With a glance up at her face, he brought himself between her legs and to her sex. He ran his tongue over the sensitive area, marking how her thighs tightened when he prodded one particular spot. A sharp gasp escaped her when he focused his attention there, carefully experimenting with different stimulation and her hands came up to his hair, pulling at it as if she wasn’t even aware of her actions. She was so warm and wet already. He increased the intensity, reveling in the near desperate noises she was making and in her musky taste. He had never tasted anything as exquisite.

Perhaps it was because she’d never been touched before or maybe because he was so diligent in getting her to give in to the pleasure, but Byleth felt a tension grow in her, a pressure that erupted under his unending tender ministrations. Throwing her head back and arching up, she let out a high mewling noise as her entire body shuddered, as if a million stars exploded within her. No one had ever mentioned what this would feel like or that it would happen so fast, and it took her by surprise. It was incredible.

As he snapped back up, Byleth was swept up by strong arms against her back and under her now wobbly legs and effortlessly carried to the bed. The bed that used to be Jeritza’s - it had seen no use in years but was soft all the same. Outside, the storm had lessened into a soft rain and the moonlight took on a warmer glow as it peeked through the windows. He laid her down and gazed at her again as he stood above her, as if memorizing her features in the soft light. Those same eyes that stared unflinchingly during their spars, that bored into her as the Death Knight, looked at her now with a gentleness that made her heart hurt. 

Sensing the rushing return of his shyness, Byleth sat up on her knees in bed. He was a mixture of passionate wanting and painful insecurity, direct in some things he was doing to her but almost unable to let himself give in to more. She thought she understood how he felt - outside of training and battlegrounds, she had never really touched a man, definitely not like this. Hoping he would not notice her hesitancy, her hands reached out to his body and down to his belt, which she untied and let drop to the floor. 

He was so still that she felt he was a deer caught in a hunter’s gaze, like one wrong move would send him away from her forever. How long had it been since he allowed someone so close to him? Had he ever trusted anyone enough?

Returning up, her hands slowly ran up his tunic and she touched the ripple of muscles on his chest as he inhaled sharply. He didn’t flinch away from the contact though and Byleth was grateful, it empowered her to continue. Beginning to raise his tunic up, she gave him time to refuse and push her hands away, but instead he assisted in raising it over his head and then tossed it to the side. 

He was beautiful. A lifetime of fighting had defined his body and the crisscrossing scars only reminded her of his unending strength. How many sparring matches had ended with them both covered in cuts, scrapes, and bruises? She could only rely on being lighter and faster to win, his training and strategy was equal to hers. Too many times, he’d combined his sword artistry with his brute power to smash through her defenses and demand that she yield to his victory.

Byleth’s fingers danced slowly across his upper body, thumbs lazily drawing lines over his muscles. His eyes had closed and she got the impression that he was memorizing her touch, too. She lowered her hands to his waistband and his eyes snapped open again, his body moving to help remove his pants and boots.

The evidence of his want was plain to see and Byleth could only think that it was beautiful too. His cock was large and longer than her hand and though she had no idea what she was truly doing, she wanted so very much to feel him in her hands, in her mouth. Would he let her?

He gasped as she brushed against his cock, which was already leaking precum. Wrapping her fingers around it, she started slowly moving her hand up and down - and his hand shot out to wrap around her wrist, stopping her motion. Byleth looked up at him, waiting for permission. He jerkily breathed out and put his hand back down to his side. She restarted, marveling at the feel of him in her hand, how hard he was for her already, how big he was. A thumb caressed the head of his cock, flicking over the tip. Every inch of him was warm and throbbing for her.

She too could learn his desires from his reactions and as she lowered her mouth to his cock, she listened to his breathing and his soft noises as she began swirling her tongue around his shaft. A strange sense of bonding came over her then - she refused to think of anyone else doing this to him, taking him into their mouth, sucking on him until his hands raised up to the back of their head and his fingers dug into their hair. This was for her, it was her hair his hands were in, his low moans because of what she was doing to him. 

His hips started moving to meet her mouth and she could feel him in the back of her throat. It was almost taboo, having her worthiest enemy in this position. The trust he must have in her at this moment was almost too much to bear and she found herself cherishing the thought.

It wasn’t that long before Jeritza raised her head up by tugging at her hair and her lips smacked off of his cock. He kissed her and she knew she could taste both herself and him and she was almost lightheaded at the sensations. They only parted long enough for him to carefully lower her back as he joined her in bed, nudging her knees open with his legs. As if he was hanging on by a thread, he caged her by putting his arms on either side of her and readied himself at her entrance. She could feel his body pressed against her, tense as a whipcord, almost trembling. She too was anxious… this all still so new to her and this person had tried to hurt her, kill her, on more than one occasion and here she was, letting him enter her.

He must’ve sensed it or maybe he just knew her too well. Never had any woman had a more tender initiation into lovemaking than here and now. He gave her soft kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her jawline as he guided himself into her as carefully as possible and she was so wet already that it was almost seamless. A surprised gasp escaped her when there was a sharp twinge of pain at the foreign intrusion, and he kissed her through that too, almost in apology. And then he was hilted fully inside her.

Jeritza looked down at her, looking for any fear, any sadness, any regret, and to his surprise,  
Byleth only had a dreamy look in her eyes - she knew what sex was but nothing she’d ever heard had prepared her for this kind of intimacy. He filled an ache she had, he filled a part of her that she didn’t know had been missing. All she wanted was to be close to him, to feel all of him against her as their curves met, almost as if they were made to fit together. Wrapping her arms around him to pull him as near as possible, she ran her lips over his, soft feathery touches. He parted her lips with his tongue and they deepened the kiss as his hips started careful thrusting.

It was almost as if both of them were adjusting to this new feeling, so hesitant to break the magic but so lost in each other that nothing else existed, it was just the two of them in this room, on this bed. Nothing in the rest of the world mattered. 

Byleth hitched her legs around his waist, her arms around his shoulders as they both enjoyed the new angle and his hungry mouth sought out her neck. As he pumped into her, he nuzzled at her, his panting breath against her skin. Hearing her soft noises, keens, whimpers, drove him to be more assertive in pleasuring her and his punishing stamina ensured that he could keep this steady and deep thrusting up as long as needed and she was so welcoming and warm around him. He paused to grab her wrists and press them over her head, threading his fingers through hers, the affection in the action almost bringing her to tears.

Were they here for hours or minutes? Neither could say… they were with each other, exploring each other, basking in each other. Their kisses branded each other’s bodies, their touches burned like fire over each other’s skin, soft gasps and moaning the only sounds against the rain.Time meant nothing.

Byleth felt another wave building in her, starting between her legs and growing with each of Jeritza’s thrusts. His cock felt so good, he felt so good in her, she wasn’t going to last long and she could already tell this feeling was so much stronger than before. As her body started trembling, he quickened his pace, his own body finally ready to release its tension. His breathing came out in ragged gasps against her as he laid his face in the crook of her neck, lips grazing her skin. 

She pumped her hips up to meet his, matching his pace, unable to prevent whimpering from escaping her lips at every motion. A delicious warmth started spreading through her, her thighs twitching in anticipation. As Jeritza’s pumping became more frantic and his moans deepened (and she treasured the sweet sounds he made), she could tell he was barely able to hang on, but he wanted her to cum again first. And in one deep thrust, she did.

As her body rocked against his and her head snapped back, she cried out at the sheer intensity. He fucked her through her orgasm, his thrusts becoming disjointed as her voice tipped him over the edge. As the stars exploded again for her, wave after wave, they carried through her body and her sex clenched around him as he came with a shuddering gasp, holding on to her tightly, trying to get even deeper still and bury himself in her as he released into her. His body gave a violent shiver as he melted against her.

Her trembling arms held him close as they came down from their highs together, their breaths ragged. His face was still pressed against her neck and she tilted hers closer and whispered in his ear.

“Emile...”

In a heartbeat, he raised himself up on his elbows to look down at her, his eyes clouded and mouth slightly open, his hair which had long escaped its ribbon tumbling down to frame his face. She gazed back at him with her flushed skin and soft panting as her breathing calmed down, and she slowly raised a hand and tucked his hair behind his ear, then traced his cheek with her fingertips. He looked so… vulnerable.

She was almost afraid she had broken the spell they wove on each other this night, but then he closed his eyes and leaned his face against her hand. Such a small gesture, but with so much meaning.

As he removed himself from her, she had quick pang of sadness at the loss of his body. He laid down next to her and nuzzled up against her back, he pulling her close to wrap his arms around her as their legs intertwined. It felt like he was both claiming possession of her and protecting her, all at once. She raised his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers.

They could never say the words, so every look, every touch, had to convey the world. They only had tonight, but tonight was everything. How long had it been since either of them felt truly safe... and yet here it was, wrapped in the arms of the enemy.


End file.
